


Cravings (DBD VORE - 18+ - NONCON - FATAL)

by FoolishFodder



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Digestion, F/M, M/M, Multi, Rape/Non-con Elements, Vore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-26 13:27:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18283220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoolishFodder/pseuds/FoolishFodder
Summary: Dwight had a bad run in with Frank after a new one shot mori is announced, much to his horror, his world gets so much larger.This is a DBD vore fic, there is noncon included and fatal vore.





	Cravings (DBD VORE - 18+ - NONCON - FATAL)

**Author's Note:**

> THIS CONTAINS RAPE AND FATAL VORE (HARD AND SOFT). YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Location: Mount Ormond Resort 

The night air was crisp and unwelcoming, the forest around the remaining survivor was engulfing and dangerous as well. Occasionally crows would cry from the dark treetops and the rustle of their shifting wings would echo unsettlingly to the ground below. 

Dwight Fairfield was doing his best to escape any signs of life he could, this would result in him ducking in and out of lockers, crouching to stalk behind generator walls and darting around to evade any noises that dare came close to him.

He was the last living survivor out of a pack of four, but for some odd reason the entity hadn't been summoned. No one had been sacrificed. There was no death drum. Nothing. Yet somehow he knew they were gone, he just hoped he could find the hatch before the killer found him. 

Luckily for Dwight he hadn't even seen the killer yet, without any audio representation he knew it wasn't The Huntress or The Nightmare.. or even the Shape.  
No revving chainsaw, no electrical current, no glass scraping against bone… absolutely nothing. 

The poor guy's heart was throbbing against his ribcage when he finally settled down next to a half picked at chest. He slumped to the dirty floor and looked around the cabin like room. Dwight gulped and slipped his glasses off his face in a sad attempt to clean them on his dirty shirt, fingers trembling with every scrape or caw he heard above him.

Suddenly a slam thundered through the room, his entire body had jolted and his head immediately snapped up to stare at the dark floorboards. He squinted hastily before putting his spectacles back on and taking another look. Sure enough, through the thin cracks in the floor he could see a bright scarlet light looming.

His eyebrows raised in partial disbelief and he slowly rose to his feet, shuffling quietly across the bloody basement floor and toward a locker. Dwight bit his lip as he painfully opened the squeaky door, which did as usual and squealed loudly with movement. The red light stayed still while the former pizza delivery boy backed his way into his new cage. He shut the door and began to wait.

Minutes felt like hours. He kept blindly checking his watch in hopes that the killer would get bored of pacing above him and eventually Dwight was right, because the killer had stomped his way downstairs instead and Dwight could hear him shuffling back and forth. He swallowed quietly and shifted as slow as he could to peek through the crack in the locker door, his knees ached and his stomach flipped at the sight of the red light whipping back and forth.

Upon further inspection he realized why he hadn't heard much of anything. The killer before him was Frank Morrison, the mask would of given him away for miles, even if he almost matched with Julie. He also sort of gave off that vibe that all nerdy people despised, the high school jock. Or better (stereotypically) known as the high school bully. It was bad enough that Dwight was already in one rusty locker, he didn't need shoved into another.

Frank shuffled back and forth, staring at the very locker Fairfield was hiding in, his weapon in hand and his head cocked in a weird form of concentration. Dwight held his breath, terrified at the thought of Frank whipping open those shameful and screechy doors. His luck was coming to an end as a crow promptly landed on top of the metal closet. His eyes widened and his entire body stiffened as the first caw chimed.

Within seconds Frank had the doors swung open and his hands on our little ‘hero’.

Dwight barely had time to react before the coppery air hit him and he was snatched by his tie, yanked forward, and thrown onto the floor with a thud. His vision swam and his lucky pen went skittering across the dirty concrete. That would've been the closest thing he had to a weapon. 

“AH-!--” He cried upon impact, quickly rolling over to face his demise. “-Wait WAIT!!” he screamed as Frank raised his weapon, one bandaged hand gripped tightly onto the muscle in the crook of Dwight's neck.

He swore he was about to die, with the tools already looming over him, death seemed inevitable.

Dwight felt a pressure that he had never felt before in his life, his body jolted once before his vision completely blacked out.

-

What seemed like hours was actually about thirty minutes of total darkness. Dwight woke with a slow dizzy headache, the world seemed so much larger than it had before, his vision swam and be swore he could see stars. Or at least what he thought was stars. 

The small man let out a shuddering groan as he sat up, feeling for his glasses. Luckily they were a few feet away and he took no time at all to locate them. 

Once he could see again he squinted at the dark and musty room around him. No doors. No windows… just weird lines of light on the “ceiling”. He stood slowly and raised an arm, even getting on his tiptoes to touch the strangely textured sky above his little confused head. It kinda felt like old cardboard.. definitely smelt like old cardboard. 

“What the fuck..?” he whispered, glaring around to try and get a better sense of his surroundings when suddenly his world shook like an earthquake. The floor beneath him shifted and rocked and he fell promptly on his ass, sort of sliding back and forth before everything came to a sudden and strong stop.

The loud shifting and a sudden blinding light took over his senses and he quickly used his arm to shield his eyes. After a few moments he removed his arm to look around in pained confusion. He was in a box. A literal, dirty, dusty, cardboard box. Unsure of how this could've even happened, he looked up at his captor.

The familiar bloody mask bore down at him with its usual sickening grin. Looking at it made his stomach turn. Dwight backed up a few feet, shoes rustling awkwardly against the cardboard floor beneath him. He stood in a sort of defense mode, arms in front of him, legs parted. Obviously afraid.

“You took the longest fucking time to get up. I mean, Jesus Christ. It's been…” Frank hissed as he turned to look at the barely working wall clock on the far side of the room.

“Probably around twenty goddamn minutes, Fairfield.” He said before reaching into the box and wrapping his dirty fingers around the shrunken man’s torso. Dwight panicked and began to shove and squirm in the weak yet somehow firm grasp Frank had on him.  
“DON'T TOUCH ME.” He screamed. 

Frank's mask mirrored his expression beneath it's cold plastic exterior. Dwight’s screaming fit obviously amused him. “Chill out.” Frank snickered, using his index finger to shove Dwight down, he then used the same finger to push against his delicate rib cage. 

“Wouldn't wanna snap my new toy already, right? Total fucking waste of time if you ask me.” 

To Dwight’s surprise, the teen before him moved his other hand to shift his signature mask to the side of his head, revealing his dirty face. Frank had a slender build, pale yet sort of grungy looking. Hell. Survivors and killers alike looked and most likely were dirty anyway, it was hard enough to find water in the world to drink, they wouldn't dare waste that I'm washing clothes or hair often. PTA right? 

Frank's hair was a buzz cut, a surprisingly still short one too, his hair was a dirty blond almost mousey brown shade and his eyes were a slate gray almost blue color. It was hard to pinpoint in the shoddy lighting but Dwight could at least take mental notes for later. 

Dwight wheezed beneath Frank's weight and continued kicking and squirming anyway.  
“Get off! Please! I'll do anything!” he pleaded, his eyes hopeful and also very very scared. He didn't want to deal with this weird fiasco. He dealt with enough as is.

Frank's eyes rolled to the left, his left, before falling on him again. “Yeah no. Entity gets you guys over and over and over again and you want me to let you go after I've just learned about this neat little trick? You're HILARIOUS.” He snapped, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he slammed his knife into the floor of the box directly beside Dwight. The blade was dug in so tightly it went through the cardboard and stuck into the wood below without budging.

Dwight shrieked when the knife made impact next to him, his entire body curled up for a split second. To give him credit, he was only around 5 inches tall. So much stress could honestly give him a heart attack. Poor widdle Dwighty..

Frank took his finger off of Dwight’s chest and instead snatched him up by the back of his button up. He dangled the smaller man and bounced him lightly. “Let's see how good those buttons hold up huh?.. You know. I'm jealous of you freaks, you all get to respawn after death, over and over and over again. What do we get?” he paused, expecting Dwight to answer. A few seconds passed of silence before he shook Dwight violently for a moment. “Well?! What do we get?!” Frank roared, a tight sneer washing over his face, showing frustratingly nice teeth.

“I DON'T KNOW-- I DON'T KNOW! I'M SORRY!” Dwight cried, grabbing at whatever he could to try and stop the dizziness while he dangled helplessly.

Frank inhaled sharp, his sneer turning to a cruel and angry grin. “We get punished if we don't sacrifice all of you fuckers. No water. No food. NO NOTHING, DWIGHT.” Another snap. Dwight had finally resorted to tears, body shaking and lungs wheezing with panic. He choked out a terrified sob. “I'm sorry-! We don't wanna die either-!”

“NOBODY CARES WHAT YOU WANT. NO ONE WILL EVER CARE ABOUT WHAT YOU WANT, DWIGHT. EVER. DO YOU NOT GET THAT?!” Frank yelled, causing Dwight’s ears to ring. Dwight cupped his hands over his ears in writhing pain, vision dotting momentarily while Frank breathed heavy, gritting his teeth.

“This time. I'll win. The entity always gets fed. ALWAYS. I want fed too.. and you. You'll be my last one until you little bastards come back. I won't stop either. Now that I know I can do this, YOU ARE FOOD.” 

The words didn't quite register at first, Dwight just glared at him, tears dripping down his stained cheeks from behind his crooked glasses. 

What did he mean by that? Food? Cannibalism shouldn't be resorted to… 

Dwight’s thoughts jumbled into a vat of confusion, which was quickly cleared up when Frank drug his tongue up his little chest and face. He didn't care for the clothes, so with oddly gentle nibbles he began to pull off Dwight’s shoes and pants. Instinct took over his body like a wild animal and Dwight began to kick and yell.

“H-HEY- HEY-! WAIT WAIT-” He squeaked, kicking Frank in the nose with the heel of his shoe. “-YOU'RE DISGUSTING! DON'T LICK ME! PERVERT- FREAK--.. PLEASE!” He  
screamed, but Frank honestly ignored him. 

Predatory pupils looked Dwight in the face as he bit the nerdy boy's pant leg and began to pull. 

Dwight’s belt was restricting this, so much to Dwight’s terror Frank pushed his hip against his canine teeth and snapped the belt in half with one easy bite. He pulled his head back some and dropped the belt onto the table beneath him before continuing to pull Dwight's doll sized clothing off his fragile body.

Dwight was hyperventilating. His heart was racing so fast he swore that he would die of a heart attack before Frank would get to do whatever he was going to. The tears wouldn't stop and neither would the instinct to fight. He continued to scream and kick, bopping Frank in the nose and cheek, his gums and lips, finally he swung for Frank's eye and that made the giant jolt back in a wave of teary pain.

“FUCK!” Frank roared and dropped Dwight what seemed like fifteen to twenty feet to the little guy. His body hit the table with a quiet thud and an airy gasp. Frank got up, snarling as he rubbed his watering eye and backing away from the table. He worked faster than Dwight could though and he slammed an old rusted bucket over him.  
“STAY THERE. FUCKER!”

Steadily Dwight’s vision faded to black.

-

Dwight came to about three hours later, listening to the quiet familiar screams of one of his friends. He blinked hazily and looked around the dark interior of the bucket. He gulped and turned blindly toward the noise, listening closely.

“No- NO NO- PLEASE! FRANK PLEASE! I'LL DO ANYTHING-!” Meg’s terrified screams were suddenly muffled. 

Outside the bucket there was loud shuffling before he felt a heavy weight on top of the metal above him and with a pained cringe he listened to a heavy, audible, swallow, followed by distancing screams. 

Dwight’s body shook as the weight shifted off the bucket. Frank sighed and thudded his chest a bit to let out a belch. The killer flopped back in his chair and kicked his feet up onto the rickety table. He prodded at his stomach and yawned.

“Y’know Meg.. I was saving you for last because I honestly thought that Dwight had made it out. Looks like he's gonna stay with me for a while. You however...are gonna die. You're gonna be crushed and churned and shifted through my body like the fodder you are.” he waved a bandaged hand as he talked.

“I didn't take my time with you like I'm gonna with the nerd over here but that's fine. You're still kinda filling.. sorta. Whatever.”

Dwight was devastated. Despite the dark his pupils were small and his lips were parted in shock.

Fodder -.. food? Did he really just.. no, that's impossible…. Wait, you're small right now- what do you mean that's impossible?! Your friend is dying and you're sitting here in disbelief! Be a leader!!

Dwight shook his head and got up, hurrying to try and push the bucket with slight success. 

Frank raised an eyebrow and watched the metal container shift across the table top. He kept his arms folded behind his head as he watched in pure amusement. Just as Dwight was about to go over the edge he snatched the bucket up, revealing his new pet.

“Oh hey, Dweeb! You really wanna KICK THE BUCKET, HUH?!” he smirked, slamming a hand down beside Dwight and watched as he darted to the other side of the table. It was kinda like whack-a-mole. He kept slamming his hand down just inches away and Dwight kept running until he was a panting, asthmatic mess. Frank pinched the back of Dwight’s shirt to hungrily look him over.

“Y’know, you look pretty stupid running around in a shirt and underwear. I mean. You still have a tie on. What a loser.” Frank laughed, holding him like a doll as he began to tear apart his little shirt.

“Frank- Stop- please-” Dwight choked, breathing heavily. Frank gave an eye roll, stomach growling loudly. “Your friend is a fighter, Dwight. I really hate that bitch, y’know?” He huffed and adjusted himself. “She just has a really punchable face. Kinda a daddy’s girl yeehaw kinda vibe.” He scoffed.  
“Just makes me wanna kill her. Oh wait.” Frank turned smug, a grin plastered across his face. “I'm working on it. Your other friends are already probably down here.” he said poking at his lower gut. “They're dead. Or they better be. I'll do it again.” he threatened, getting really close to Dwight’s face.

“I could use you as a sex toy, your little faggoty ass would like that.”

Dwight grimaced at the thought of being inserted anywhere inside Frank, his little body shuddered. This brought a weird sense of joy to Frank. He could practically smell the fear wafting off of him. He pulled off the last of Dwight’s clothes leaving him with just his glasses and no secrecy whatsoever.

Frank had begun to turn him around, looking at every angle he could before propping his elbows up on the table and spreading Dwight's legs. Dwight shook like a leaf, gripping at Frank’s hands desperately, trying to hold in whimpers of exhausted terror.

Time stopped when Frank drug the tip of his tongue between Dwight’s legs, poking at his ass slightly before giving his cock a generous, slimy, lick.

Dwight quickly cupped his hand over his mouth, muffling a small moan. 

No. This isn't supposed to feel GOOD. Don't you dare let him think you're enjoying this, Dwi!

He closed his eyes tightly to try and forget that Frank was even touching him but it just made it worse, sexual images continued to flood Dwight’s murky mind with each lick. His knees shook and his hips slowly began to buck. Frank was a grinning, drooling, mess. 

Inside of Frank: Meg’s world was shifting. 

Literally shifting. Groaning. Churning.

His gut growled menacingly around her, shaking hands beat against the stomach walls while she tried to stay out of the pool of acid and mostly disgusted human remains. Bones and scattered pieces of clothing slithered around her. She tried to ignore the fact that someone's (most likely Jake’s) partially digested body was pushing against her thighs.

“FRANK!” She screamed, banging on his internal walls. “PLEASE!” Like Dwight she stood at about 5 inches tall, obviously petrified of what was to come and a bit cramped.

Frank belched in response, it was unexpected and sort of startled both him and Dwight but he played it off like it was planned with a shrug.

Meg whined, the walls shoving her back and forth until she was stuck on her knees, acid to her chest from the stomach squeezing around her in attempts to digest. She tried her best to ignore the bones and stained fabric shifting around her, hair and sludge. Her lip quivered and her hands remained pushed out against the walls, she was doing everything in her power to keep from being smothered. “FRANK!” She screamed again, voice quickly growing hoarse from the volume of her yell.

Dwight flinched, his hands still gripping at Frank’s fingers. His eyes glanced downward at the table, more so trying to look at his captors gut, knowing damn well his friend was in there and she needed help. He snapped back to reality when Frank gave another lick to his little cock. He gave an achy moan, tears welling up in his eyes while he bit his lip to try and pretend that Frank’s tongue didn't feel that good or even good in general.

It was a wonder how Frank swallowed Meg without choking.. but glancing across the table he saw the aid Frank had set up. Olive oil.  
That wasn't fair. Then again, nothing was fair here.

Frank hummed, poking the tip of his tongue against Dwight’s entrance before pushing Dwight into his mouth ass first. Dwight’s legs and torso hung out of his jaws and honestly the shock had set in for a split moment. It took Dwight a few seconds of staring blankly with his eyebrows raised in a dazed and confused gesture before he even began squirming and pushing at the corners of Frank’s mouth.  
“SPIT. ME. OUT.” He demanded. Cute.

Frank raised an eyebrow before stifling a laugh around his mouthful. 

He thinks it's that easy, huh? Okay.

He spit him onto the table with no warning, dropping Dwight maybe a foot but to Dwight it felt like 10 to 20. 

Dwight yelped when he smacked the wood, groaning and rolling onto his stomach and pushing himself up into a sitting position. His head spun, his heart was racing. “Jesus Christ, you're an asshole!” he groaned. The words came out faster than he could think about the consequences. His eyes widened in realization.

“N-Not like that's a bad thing. Like many people are assholes - just look at Joey. I mean. Shit-” 

Frank was staring now, lips pursed in agitation.

“You wanna talk about assholes? I'll shove you in mine. Been looking for a toy for a fucking while. Maybe if you yell loud enough you and Meg can have a chat.” he grit, teeth bared. The saliva from lapping and sucking on Dwight was still on his chin, glistening in the dirty light.

Something that shouldn't be so intimidating really became scary when your next destination was a digestive tract.

“NO NO. NO. It's okay! I'm good!” Dwight yelped, scrambling back in defense. He got to his feet with a shaky inhale. “I can just go-”

A hand slammed down in front of him. “Where!? Where will you go?” Frank smirked, a mean grin forming.

“You're a kinky little son of a bitch. But that's for later. You're gonna stick around whether you like it or not. Your other little friend's lasted maybe… Oh, I dunno. About 9 hours a piece? If that. Took me a few days to track you all down and figure out the mori.” He cooed, walking his fingers to Dwight. He kept them in front of him, standing like a little person. Dwight swallowed and stayed still, watching the hand cautiously.

“Everything is all fun and games until the bones come at ya.” Frank rolled his eyes before flicking Dwight between the legs and watching him drop to his little knees in a scream of pain. Watching Dwight writhe around holding his bits was pretty cute. It made Frank smile at least and that was all that mattered right now. 

Inside Frank however..

Meg’s crotch burned more than anything. Fingertips, toes, eyes, ears, nose, everything tingled numbly. She sobbed, gripping at a fold in the stomach lining. 

She knew her time was going to come to a bitter and disgusting end. Who would’ve thought she'd die from being a gut filler? Survivors to Frank were like mini meals to average people. Sort of like a snack, too big to be one bit too small to be dinner. Either way there was no escaping this alive. If she tried to go all the way through she'd drown or suffocate in bodily fluids first before even reaching the end. She couldn't get enough grip to climb upwards and out. She was stuck, rotting, inside of Frank’s soulless gut.

The world around Meg gurgled and groaned, squeezing and creaking with each contraction. She continued to choke sob, rationality out the window. The more she cried the more oxygen she consumed, unless Frank swallowed an air bubble, but we all know he wouldn't be that nice.

Frank snorted and poked at his stomach while watching Dwight try to collect himself. “You good? You look hurt. Lemme kiss it better-” he said, reaching a hand out to snatch him. Dwight scrambled back, guarding his face with his arm. “FUCK OFF. DON'T TOUCH ME.” He yelled, voice wavering with pain and fear. His tears were dripping with ease. Despite how often he cried his tear ducts were always full and ready for the next session. A cry baby. Laughing stock. Community fool. No wonder he was so easily convinced, if he hadn't of followed his manager into the woods that night he wouldn't even be here. He didn't want to be food. He didn't want to be a toy, and he certainly didn't want anything to do with Frank Morrison.

The yell startled the killer, he actually paused to stare, eyebrows raised and lips parted. “Aw, baby boy-” he begun sarcastically.

“-STOP. JUST. JUST STOP. YOU ATE MY FRIENDS. Y-Y-YOU WANNA EAT ME. YOU'RE A MONSTER. GO DIE OR SOMETHING. I HOPE YOU CHOKE.” Dwight snapped, his voice had stopped wavering, but his nervous stutter stayed strong.

Frank furrowed his eyebrows at Dwight’s attitude. “You really wanna play that game? YOU WANNA PISS ME OFF?!” He roared suddenly, slamming his hand on the table as he stood. He knew damn well that Dwight didn't know how to get down, so he took that to his advantage.

Frank stomped over to a half destroyed shelf, snatching the first bottle he found. This was from his personal stash, a small bottle of vodka he carried around when he was with his friends on that fateful night. The clear liquid sloshed as he stormed back over, setting the dusty bottle down with a slam. Meg was probably sloshing around too, she was definitely still alive but saliva does what saliva does. It pools and creates a puddle with the acid, which slowly rises as more food enters the body. 

He twisted the cap off with one easy movement and held the alcohol threateningly close to Dwight.

“I could splash you. I could drown your fucking ‘girlfriend’, or I could smash you to a bloody fucking pulp RIGHT NOW. Do you understand that? I'm in charge here. You can cry and whine and snot all you want when you're being digested alive, otherwise I don't wanna fucking hear it. Scream for mercy inside of me, you dumb bitch!” He prodded, slamming his fist on his own chest.

“FUCK YOU. YOU SPINELESS BRAT!” Dwight boomed, tiny body jolting with adrenaline.

Frank had had enough, he took a swig of vodka and held it in his mouth, snatching Dwight up and pushing his upper body into his alcohol filled mouth. Dwight screams were muffled by flesh and burning liquid. His eyes, nose, and mouth burned aggressively in response to the concoction. Frank swished his drink around Dwight before swallowing and pulling him from his mouth with a satisfied sigh.  
“Well!! That fucking sucks, now doesn't it?” he snickered as Dwight screamed and rubbed his eyes. 

“See. Ain't this fun? I haven't felt your bitch squirm much, she probably passed out. Oh well, I don't really give a fuck. Jake put up a really good fight, David lost his arm because he was being a dumbass. Sometimes you gotta chew your food. Right Dwighty?” He said with another sarcastic coo.

“I'm gonna let you sit and think on your actions while Meg digests, see you in a few hours, scum of the Earth.” Frank waved a hand as he plopped Dwight inside the bucket and slapped a heavy book over the top, encasing him in a pitch black metallic prison. 

-

Even hours later, Dwight hadn't stopped sobbing. The pain alone was near blinding and unbearable. He honestly had never felt anything like this before and the thoughts of what stomach acid would feel like began to make him have a mental break down. He heaved and choked for about an hour, flopped on his side as his eyes slowly calmed down. They still burned with every blink but the darkness made it so much easier to just keep them open without wincing. The metal was cold against his bare skin. He brought his hand up to his mouth slowly, running his tongue across his finger tips while searching for the perfect angle to begin demolishing his nails. This was pathetic. But it slowly lulled him to sleep.

-

The vodka burned worse than the acid did.

Meg had been trying to stay standing for the better part of three hours, she kept getting knocked down or smothered and honestly she was hating every minute of it. The pitch black made it so hard to focus on what was happening between the voracious stomach growls and Frank’s slowed heartbeat. He had to of been asleep. Now was her chance. 

 

With all the strength left in her body she thrust her arms into the stomach opening, kicking and pushing with her knees to shove her head and upper body back into the esophagus. Frank’s body only slightly reacted at first but then it turned into a full blown coughing, gagging, mess. Frank jolted up off his ‘bed’, which was made mostly of shredded tarp and various fabric scraps. He sat up so fast he nearly made himself dizzy, getting on his hands and knees and beginning to hack sort of like a cat choking on a hairball. He didn't know what to think. Was this normal? Nah.

Slowly the bulge in his throat moved upwards and he knew exactly what was going on when a slimy hand grabbed his molars. He was about to bite down before his throat lurched and Meg spilled out of his maw and onto the floor, along with various bones and a few fabric scraps. Stomach acid and foam looked around her while she coughed and gasped for fresh air.

“FUCK. YOU. FRANK.” She croaked out the best she could. The loudest she could.

He was bewildered, wiping drool from his mouth and chin. His neck also. It was everywhere.

“You're fucking dead. Oh my god, you're fucking dead.” He groaned, swallowing and gritting his teeth before reaching for her.

Meg seemed to react about as fast as a dazed and blinded person could. She got up and jolted back, bolting as far as she could like a mouse running from a cat. Frank growled and went after her, lunging and hitting the floor just out of reach of his lucky yet unlucky meal. Meg glanced over her shoulder, letting out a scream as she was snatched off the floor and immediately brought to his mouth. “NO!” She howled when he opened his jaws and held her over his threatening maw, teeth gleaming. Her heels tapped his bottom front teeth, she kicked upwards which brought her more pain than Frank.

The irritation was clear in his face and definitely stayed true when he bit down.

A disgusting crunch and a roar of pain shot through Meg. All she could comprehend were high pitched panicked screams of sheer pain. Frank pushed her legs further into his mouth and took another bite, jerking his head to the side, gaining another pop and crunch from her body. He pulled her away, looking at his new amputee as he chewed her legs from the knees down. Blood dribbled down his chin and he flashed a scarlet smile before swallowing loudly. Meg sobbed and covered her face with an arm, body pale and jolting with bursts of pain while shock slowly took her. Blood was practically pouring down Frank’s hand at this point, so he chose to continue. He brought her close again and pushed her lower body into his mouth, his tongue slicking up her slit before he gave her wounds a hard suck. Meg screeched and squirmed, punching at his nose and lips before he pushed her in up to her ribs.

His teeth pressed painfully against her delicate skin, his tongue tasting her skin and flesh. His stomach growled audibly, liking the metallic taste. Frank hummed around her before biting again, the crunch took her life almost immediately, sending half of her organs into his mouth and the other half shot halfway up her throat, blood spewing from her mouth and her eyes rolling back as death took her mercilessly. Frank opened his mouth and pushed her in a bit further, his fingers pinched her hair and his bit down severed her head from her body. 

The killer swung her miniature head around by her ginger locks as he thoroughly chewed her body, pushing bones and mush back and forth from one cheek to another to get as much of her taste as possible. He gulped once to get half of her down, chewing the rest of her was easy and he finished up with another near blissful swallow. 

Frank stopped and picked his teeth with a stray rib bone he pulled from his cheek, burping quietly and shrugging. He stood up and stretched, giving his stomach a pat with his free hand as he marched his way back to the area he had left Dwight in.

Upon locating the bucket he lifted the crusty book and picked blood from his lips, ignoring the scarlet liquid on his chin.  
“Hey Dwight. Wakey wakey. I found you a friend.” he said cheerfully, his loud voice was near thundering for Dwight, so he jolted awake.

Dwight rubbed his eyes and grabbed his glasses just in time for Frank to drop something into the bucket. It hit the metal with a plink and rolled close to him. Dwight squinted to focus before inhaling sharply and scrambling back away from Meg’s head. Her mouth agape and her eyes bloodshot and murky with fresh death.

“I thought you'd like to see your friend again. She caused me some problems, it’s no big deal right? Not everyone can be you, Dwight.”

The hyperventilating began, Dwight covered his mouth to refrain from heaving at the sight, his heart pounding in his ears. His eyes trailed up to meet Frank's. Frank was just watching now, his grin plastered. Dwight’s vision focused on Frank's pink tinted teeth and his heart sank to his feet. His chest heaved and he nearly gagged again, shaking hands remained clasped over his mouth. 

“What's wrong? You don't wanna see her?” Frank said, faking disappointment. “That's a shame.” 

He reached into the bucket and pulled her cranium out, popping it into his mouth and holding it between his front teeth as he flashed a smile to Dwight before jerking his head back with a heavy gulp.

Dwight’s stomach shifted bad enough he had to turn away from his captor, audibly gagging and hunching forward just in case he did vomit.

Frank stood straight and yawned, cracking his neck and knuckles. “Alright back to bed. See you tomorrow morning.” he waved a hand before slamming the book back over the bucket. Dwight’s entire body jolted at the noise.

Help. Help. P-Please anyone.. even the entity. Help. This isn't fair anymore. This is cruel. I want to go home.

Dwight’s jaw tensed, tears dripping fast and his teeth clicking under the pressure. It was a shock he didn't chip any of them in the process.

-

The realm made it very difficult to differentiate between morning and night but since the killers and survivors alike had been there for so long their bodies had adjusted and made it easier for them to wake up at a moments notice.

Frank sat up slowly, rubbing his face and attempting to scrub off Meg’s old and dried blood from his face with a dry piece of cloth. When that didn't work he spit on the fabric as a sort of lubrication and that finally did the trick. He jabbed at his gut quietly, shrugging as he stood up to go find his toy.

He wandered through one of corridors connecting his sleeping quarters to the makeshift “kitchen” or whatever he was going to call it that week.

The bucket was tipped on its side, book on the floor and Dwight nowhere in view. Frank was frozen for a moment, eyebrows raised and his heartbeat in his ears. “FUCK!” He roared, storming over and slapping the bucket off the table in a burst of anger. He whipped around, looking for any signs of the little devil.

The only recognition he received that the mori doesn't last forever was the loud horn of the exit doors being opened. His pupils shrunk in primal instinct and he darted back to his makeshift room, snatched his mask from a hook on the wall, and bolted out of the building. He wasn't quite fast enough, once he had the door in sight he also had Dwight in sight, whom had time to get redressed when he and his items returned to normal size, but also had time to bandage any wounds he had found. He stood there, waiting for Frank to get close enough before bolting out past the entity lines, leaving Frank alone.

A loud drum signified Dwight’s escape and Frank's soon to come torture. All he could do was hopelessly watch Dwight leave before turning to look up at the sparking skies, his mouth parted and pupils small.

“Fuck.”

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First chapter end  
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**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you'd like to see in the next chapter!


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